my

merly had, but I do not think my cough is any better; my spirits are generally so good, that if it were not that I feel very weak, I should think myself quite well; indeed I have amended so rapidly, this last month, that Mr. Russel seems to expect a complete recovery; and, with a view to promote this, he has ordered me to go out in the gig every fine day. I do not feel uneasy with respect to what may happen, for if it pleases God to spare me, I hope he will enable me to devote life to his ser vice, and if I die, I believe that, for his dear Son's sake, I shall be received into heaven. How delightful it is to view either life or death with such composure; but I often think how differently I should feel if I had no Saviour to look to. With so much inward corruption, so many sins of heart and of action, such utter helplessness :—what an awful, what a dreadful thing it must be to die, if I had not a Redeemer! Even now that I do trust in him, I am frequently cast down under the sense of my sinfulness, doubt and fear sometimes mingle with my faith; and how must it be if I knew no, thing of that Lamb of God, which taketh away the sins of the world!' But how happy am I that I do know him; how do I rejoice that he has revealed himself, to me, and that though sin may distress me, and unbelief whisper an unworthy doubt into my heart, still I have been taught to say, My soul doth magnify the Lord, and my spirit hath rejoiced in God my Saviour!

"But though I hope I am resigned to the will of my Father which is in heaven,' still I would more gladly die than live, for then, you know, every sorrow would be over, and I should be admitted into that presence where is 'fulness of joy ;' I should see my Redeemer face to face,' and should join with angels, and archangels, and all the host of heaven in magnifying his name, whom here I so feebly serve. Yet there is one whom I should regret to leave there is one tie which binds me to this world-I should grieve to part with the kindest brother that ever sister was blessed with. Do you remember, Henry, how we used to talk of the happy days we should pass together, when you were the minister of some sweet village, and I resided with you? Alas! that could never be; and the tears fill my eyes already at the idea of leaving you. I talk so much of you that Catherine says you are my household god,' and that when you come home she expects to see me fall down, and worship' you; but dearly as I love you, I hope you are not an idol, and I trust that I value my blessed Saviour infinitely more than I do the best of my earthly friends.

"Of course you recollect Miss Landor, the young lady you saw at Elmwood when you were here last. She returned home a short time since, but as her father is coming to reside in H, next spring, if I am permitted to live, I anticipate very great pleasure in her society. She is an ex

cellent girl, and we spent several happy days together when she was with Mrs. Westbury. I shal find her an admirable substitute for Catherine, who will leave us, I suspect, soon after Christmas, Christmas! What a train of happy ideas does that word awake in my mind! Then mind! Then my dearest brother will come home; then I shall have the happiness of listening to his instructions, of hear ing his voice, and of personally assuring him how grateful I feel for his kindness, and how sincerely

Owing to Mr. Russel's desire, that his young patient might be as much in the open air as as possible, Fanny now enjoyed the privilege of being driven over to Elmwood church occasionally, when she had the double pleasure of hearing one of the venerable rector's excellent sermons, and of seeing Mrs. Westbury for a few moments. She felt very happy that her father had consented to her reading prayers every evening, though she was sometimes so much indisposed as to render the exertion very painful to her. But even this pleasure had its alloy. Sometimes visitors were there, who remained so late that Fanny was compelled to retire without having performed the customary duty and when this was not the case, the inattention of her father and sister deprived her of much of the

pleasure she would otherwise have enjoyed. When she saw Catherine listlessly gazing round the room, and Mr. Gordon, with a half suppressed smile of ridicule listening to her reading, she involuntarily contrasted the scene with that which every evening presented itself at Elmwood. She would fancy herself there, while Mr. Westbury in his serious and impressive manner, read a chapter from the Bible, and offered up a prayer, and every member of his family attended with silent devotion; then glancing around on the faces before her-expres sive of any thing but religious feeling, the tear would start to her eye, and her voice, for a moment falter. Sometimes she thought she would give up the discharge of this sacred duty, since it was attended to with such apparent irreverence, but then, the consideration that it could not be wrong to serve God in her family, and that her own heart, at least was sincere, prompted her to continue it, though she feared it would be followed by no beneficial results."

As the winter advanced, her health continued to amend; until at the beginning of February she took cold, and by this means renewed her complaint, and at length sank into a rapid decline. Just at this period, Miss Gordon was married to a gentle. man who resided in the north of England, and Fanny was therefore released from that unkindne which had been chiefly instrumental in causing her parents to oppose those principles which were the

source of their daughter's happiness while in comparative health, and which supported her under the pains of sickness, and the half-formed expectation of an early death. Notwithstanding her ill health, however, Fanny was still able to leave home, and, accompanied by her mother, she twice spent a week at Elmwood with evident benefit. Mrs. Gordon too, now she really feared that Fanny could not recover, treated her with all a mother's fondness, and even entered into conversation with her on those subjects which she knew most interested her daughter. She consented to read prayers herself now that the invalid was too ill to do so, and by numberless tender attentions endeavoured to atone for her former neglect; neglect which Fanny only remembered when she thanked God that it existed no longer, while she continued humbly, yet with confidence, to declare her unchanging conviction that Christ, and Christ alone, was the way to heaven; and sometimes she ventured (though with much delicacy, lest it should seem as if she wished to exalt herself above her parents) to express a hope that her dear mother would one day experience the full meaning of that text which says, "this is a faithful saying, and worthy of all acceptation, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners."